


Dry Spell

by marmolita



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2019-2020 NHL Season, 5+1 Things, Curse Breaking, Curses, Gen, Humor, Magical Realism, Rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/pseuds/marmolita
Summary: Five times people failed to break Tyler's goal-scoring curse and one time they succeeded.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 68





	Dry Spell

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this in advance of the Feb 11 Stars v Canes game so fingers crossed that Tyler scores finally! 😂 I'll come back to update my author note after the game, depending on the outcome perhaps.
> 
> Obligatory disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and not intended to reflect real life. If you or someone you know is in the fic, do us all a favor and click away now!

1.

Not scoring sucks. Yeah, Tyler's been Mr. Assist lately, and that's all well and good. He knows his defensive play is improving and he's helping his team, but he's been taking a thousand shots and they're just  _ not going in _ .

"You know," Rads says, when Tyler's slumped in his stall, trying to convince himself to unlace his skates after yet another game with no goals, "there's Russian curse, for no scoring. To break, you need to sit in ice bath and eat a whole raw beet. Guaranteed to fix, I saw it in KHL many times."

Tyler groans and looks up at him. "You think I'm cursed?"

Rads shrugs. "Could be. Maybe just bad luck, you know? But raw beet not gonna hurt."

*

They're in the middle of a road trip in Colorado, but that doesn't stop Tyler from swinging by a grocery store and picking up a beet. He fills up his hotel room tub with cold water and dumps in a couple buckets of ice from the ice machine in the hall, then strips down and gets ready to hop in. But first, he texts Rads a photo of the beet and asks,  _ do I eat the skin? _

_ don't be idiot _ , the reply comes moments later,  _ of course you don't eat skin. _

With a sigh, Tyler wonders if he can peel a beet with a safety razor.

*

So maybe the ice bath and raw beet don't hurt, but when they get to the end of the next game and Tyler still hasn't scored, he thinks they probably didn't help either.

2.

Everyone knows that goalies are kind of weird. They have an affinity for magic and sometimes can sense things that nobody else can, so Tyler probably should have seen it coming when Bish sits down next to him before morning skate in Minnesota and says, "So, it's really hard to tell the difference between bad luck and a curse."

"Not you too," Tyler says, rolling his eyes, but he doesn't get up and walk away.

"I'm just saying, there's only so many times you can see one of your shots be right on target and then just not go in. I don't think your aim suddenly got shitty, because your passes are fine. It could be a curse."

"Yeah, and if you can't tell whether it's a curse or not, then how are you supposed to get rid of it?"

"Well, if it's a goal-related curse, there's a ritual I've seen work before. Since we're practicing here we've got the same nets, so you just have to score on me three times in a row in each net, and then the nets should be broken in for you." Bish looks earnest, so Tyler resists laughing.

"What, you're just gonna let me score on you without even trying to stop me?"

Bish chuckles and shakes his head. "It wouldn't work if I  _ let _ you score. But I know you've been scoring in practice, so it's not like you can't do it. You just need to… to teach the nets that your pucks are coming, yeah?"

Tyler shrugs. "Worth a shot, I guess."

*

He scores on Bish three times in a row in one net during practice, but not the other. He doesn't score in either during the game.

3.

"You know, there's good luck ritual I do before every game," Faksa says, when they're getting dressed after morning skate. "You scored in all-star game, you have some luck there. You want to keep it up next game, you can do good luck ritual."

Tyler's suspicious of any of Faksa's rituals, because everyone knows that Faksa is, well, kind of weird and superstitious. This whole "you might be cursed" thing is pretty ridiculous, especially since Tyler did manage to score at the all-star game, but he supposes a little extra luck won't hurt. The team could use it after that embarrassing 7-0 shutout in Minnesota. "Okay, what's your ritual? Spin around three times and clap my hands or something?"

Faksa looks at him like he's the stupidest person he's ever met. "Of course not. You put on all equipment in same order -- right side, then left side. Don't mix up sides. Tie your skates, and tug the knot three times each, right side then left side. Step onto the ice with right foot. In warmups, shoot from right side of the net first, then don't shoot from left until one goes in. If you keep things in order before the game, you can keep things in order during the game." Faksa shrugs. "Is good luck, see?"

Tyler raises an eyebrow. "Sure, I guess."

"Try it, you'll see," Faksa says, clapping him on the shoulder. "We win tonight."

*

It's harder than he expected to keep track of putting everything on in the right order, and to make sure to step onto the ice with his right foot and shoot from the right side of the goal. Tyler doesn't score, but he gets an assist and they beat the Lightning, and that matters more than anything else.

4.

Tyler gives up on Faksa's luck ritual in New Jersey, because it clearly didn't help anything in their game against the Leafs. They beat the Devils, but he still isn't scoring, and it's starting to be a major problem. The media is asking about his slump in every interview, the coaches are on his back about his game, and no amount of extra practice seems to be helping.

"I don't know what else I can do," he complains to Jamie over lunch in New York. "I'm shooting the puck! It's just not fucking going in!"

Jamie frowns down at his chicken. "Maybe Rads was right and there  _ is  _ some kind of curse," he says eventually.

Tyler shakes his head in disbelief. "You believe in that shit?"

Jamie shrugs. "We know magic is real, Seggy. It's not that much of a stretch to think you might have picked up a curse somewhere."

"I scored in the all-star game," Tyler points out, taking a big bite of his salad. "And that was  _ after _ Rads thought I was cursed."

"The all-star game doesn't count and you know it." Jamie slurps his water obnoxiously and Tyler rolls his eyes, but Jamie's not wrong. "This one time in juniors," he continues, "Tyson got cursed. He accidentally ran a goalie and, you know, goalie magic." Jamie waves his fork around in the general shape of a net. "I don't think the guy meant to curse him, it was just some kind of weird goalie karma thing. Anyway, he couldn't stop tripping any time he got ready to take a shot."

"Uh huh, sure. Where are you going with this?"

"The coach's wife knew about that kind of thing," Jamie says. "She told him to break one of his sticks and bury it somewhere close to home, then pour out some water from his favorite water bottle on top and draw an X in the dirt. He had to leave it there for a day, then dig it up and tape the stick back together. After he made it through the next game without tripping, then he could throw the stick out."

Tyler stares at Jamie for a long moment. "That sounds like total bullshit," he says eventually.

"Maybe, but he stopped tripping, so."

"How about you stay after practice and help me work on my shot instead?" Tyler suggests.

"Sure, but try the stick thing too," Jamie says, and the way he says it Tyler knows it's not really a suggestion.

*

He buries a broken stick in his backyard when they get back to Dallas, with his very confused dogs looking on. "This is the dumbest shit I ever heard," he mutters, pouring out some water and scratching an X in the dirt.

When he takes a step back to look over his work, Cash wanders over, sniffs at the dirt, and pees on it.

5.

Tyler doesn't score in their loss to the Wild. He's been getting assists, but it feels like every time he shoots it flies straight at the net and then inexplicably turns aside. They win against the Blues, and Tyler still doesn't score, and it's hard to be part of the celebration in the dressing room when everyone's happy but they're also looking at him with pity.

When he's finishing getting dressed, Rig leans against Tyler's stall and says, "When I was with the Pens, Crosby had a way to break anyone's slump. All you need to do is--"

"No!" Tyler yells, his temper finally boiling over. He stands up and shoves Rig out of his stall, then turns to face the room. "Enough, guys. Enough stupid fucking rituals! I'm not cursed, it's not bad luck, I just fucking  _ suck _ at scoring. Twitter is right. I've lost my touch, my contract is a waste of money, and no amount of burying sticks or lacing my skates backwards or howling at the moon or whatever the fuck is going to help, so just leave it alone!"

Everyone's taken aback, and Tyler can't stand it anymore. He grabs his jacket and storms out, heading straight for the bus and sitting in the back with his headphones in. He slams his fist into the seat in front of him, but it doesn't make him feel any better.

+1

The guys give him his space on their day off and at practice. Nobody says a word to him about his slump, and it's more of a relief than he thought it would be, though they're still shooting him concerned looks when he stays late to practice his shot. He catches the Finns in the corner of the dressing room having a couple of intense-looking discussions in Finnish, but that's more or less par for the course. Kivi's not part of the argument at least, but he's there with the rest of them and it looks like Roope and Esa are having a glaring match.

"What do you think's got them all worked up?" Jamie asks in a low voice, bumping Tyler with his shoulder.

"Dunno. Ask Klinger, he knows like three words of Finnish, right?" Whatever it is, it's not Tyler's problem.

*

Morning skate before their home game against the Canes goes well. A little rest has his legs feeling fresh and Tyler's determined that even if he never scores again, he's going to climb the charts in assists and make sure Guri and Roope finish. He's still going to contribute to this team one way or another.

He's accepted that he won't score tonight, and he's okay with that. He feels good. It's gonna be a good game, and they're in a solid playoff spot, and Tyler fully intends to stay there. The team seems to pick up on his improved mood and nobody says anything to him about scoring all through skate.

That's what makes it surprising when he's finished dressing and finds himself ambushed by Finns. Roope's got the same determined expression on his face he gets when he's fighting for the puck, Esa is frowning, and Miro looks a little sheepish. "Uh…can I help you guys with something?"

"I know you said no more about curses," Roope begins, holding his hands up like he's trying to show Tyler he's not a threat. (Although honestly, if Tyler can't help the team win? Roope is absolutely a threat -- to his job.) "I have a friend from Finland, and he's…"

"Special," Miro fills in.

"Right," Roope continues. "He can tell for sure if there's a curse, and if there is, he can lift it. No rituals or anything. If there's not a curse, at least you'll know. He's here, just outside. Will you talk to him?"

"I tried to talk them out of it," Esa says. "I know you didn't want this."

"I promise I'm not lying or making shit up," Roope says. "This guy, he knows magic."

"It's true," Miro adds. "I've seen him do it before."

Tyler looks between the two of them. He's had guys on the team gang up on him before, but never Miro and Roope. Honestly, he can't imagine Miro ever ganging up on  _ anyone _ , but here they are. "And I guess you know this guy too?" he asks Esa.

Esa shrugs. "I know him, but not as well. I don't know if what they're saying is true. Could be. You said no more rituals, and at least this isn't a ritual, so…if I were you, I would do it."

Tyler rolls his eyes and sighs. He's over it, he really is, but part of being a leader and helping the team win is keeping everyone engaged and happy, and he can tell if he says no that they'll be side-eyeing him forever. "Fine," he says. "I'll talk to this guy, and after he does whatever he's gonna do, we're not talking about this again, okay?"

Roope and Miro look relieved. "Yeah, come on. It won't take long."

He follows the three of them out of the arena, and when they open the door to the parking lot, the only people there are a couple of players from the Canes, whose morning skate was before theirs.

Roope calls a greeting in Finnish and gets a reply in kind, and Tyler stops in his tracks. "Wait, your 'special' friend is Sebastian Aho?"

Miro's already giving Aho a bro hug and Esa is getting a clap on the back from Teravainen, and this feels more and more like getting kidnapped by the Finnish mafia. "Special friend?" Aho asks, raising his eyebrows. "What's that mean?"

"Don't get mad," Roope says. Great, that sure makes Tyler feel better about this whole thing. "Before we go for lunch I just want you to check him out."

Aho makes a confused face, then gives Tyler a slow look up and down. "Not like  _ that _ ," Miro complains, shoving Aho in the shoulder. "For magic stuff."

What follows is a lengthy and somewhat heated discussion in Finnish among all three Stars and both Canes, until Tyler says, "Okay, can I go home and have lunch now?" and they all stop and stare at him.

"Please?" Roope says to Aho, honestly kind of batting his eyelashes at him. It's the sort of move Tyler might make. He's impressed.

"Fine," Aho says, "but you're paying for lunch. I want steak."

"Yes, I will, now will you check if there's a curse?" Roope says, halfway between grateful and exasperated.

"Give me your hands," Aho says. "It won't hurt."

"I can't believe you guys are making me do this," Tyler mutters, but he reaches out and takes Aho's hands. There's a tingling sensation, or maybe that's just his imagination, and then--

"Oh, shit," Aho says, letting go only a second later. "Yeah, that's a curse. Nasty one, too."

Tyler's heart skips a beat and his throat closes up a little, choking on the sudden resurgence of hope. "Can you lift it?" Esa asks, sounding eager though his face is still skeptical.

"Of course I can," Aho says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Maybe  _ after  _ the game."

Miro and Roope both start to protest, but Aho cracks a grin. "I'm just messing with you. It's no fun beating you if you can't score."

"Wait, how do I know you're telling the truth? How do you know about magic anyway?" Tyler asks suspiciously, though he sure hopes these guys are right and Aho can fix this. "Maybe you're all just fucking with me about the whole thing."

"They didn't tell you?" Teravainen asks. "Sebastian is--"

"I don't think he cares about that," Aho interrupts, glaring at his friend. "And we're not spreading this around."

"You're what?" Tyler asks.

Esa asks Aho something in Finnish that leaves Aho facepalming and Roope, Miro, and Teravainen nodding. "You wanna translate that for me?" Tyler asks.

"He's, um. What's the word," Esa mutters. "Elf?"

"He's-- what?"

"Elf? Like, you know, magic guys who do sneaky things sometimes," Esa says. "I don't know if that's the right word."

"Okay, now I  _ know _ you guys are fucking with me," Tyler says. "Is there a camera crew somewhere around here?"

Aho is shaking his head, his hand still covering his face. "Do you want me to fix this curse or not?" he says. "Yeah, I'm-- not like, Lord of the Rings. Or Santa. But yeah, and you better not tell anyone or I'm gonna have guys all over the league calling me up when they have a slump, even though almost all of them just have bad luck."

This is...kind of crazy, actually. Tyler's just supposed to believe that Sebastian Aho, the Canes' top scorer, is not only an actual magical elf, but that he can lift a curse that somehow got put on him? And that  _ elves _ are a real thing in the first place? He can't help looking to see if Aho has pointy ears (he doesn't).

"Okay," Teravainen says, "I'm hungry, so can we get this over with?"

"You know what," Tyler says, "fuck it. Sure, your magical Finnish elf friend can lift the magic curse on me. Why the hell not."

"I don't have to," Aho says with a raised eyebrow. "I could just leave it. Better for me that way, we need the points more than you."

"Come on," Roope begs, "let him do it. You'll see, it's real."

"Okay, okay," Tyler says, "sorry. What do you want me to do?" He's still not sure if he believes it or not. He felt something when Aho touched him before, and hell, he  _ wants _ to believe that there's a way to get him to start scoring again, but it seems pretty far-fetched.

"Just give me your hands again," Aho says, a little exasperated. Tyler reaches out and Aho takes his hands and closes his eyes. There's that tingling again, but it's getting stronger this time so maybe he wasn't imagining it the first time either. After a few more seconds, Aho frowns, and the tingling spreads to his whole body. It ramps up, from a tingle to a buzz until he feels like he's trembling all over, and then all of a sudden it snaps like a cool wave of water washing over him.

Aho lets go of his hands. "There," he says, shaking out his hands. "Done. That was a bad one -- you must have really pissed someone off. Just because I took it away doesn't mean you're gonna score tonight though; it just means you'll be back to normal."

There's no way Tyler imagined all of those strange feelings, so curse or no curse, Aho definitely did something magic to him. "Thanks," he says, as Roope, Miro, and Esa take turns clapping him on the back. "And I won't tell anyone you're a-- whatever you are."

"You're buying me a really expensive steak," Aho says to Roope, but he's smiling.

*

When he steps out onto the ice, Tyler knows something's changed for the better. He feels good, really good, good enough that when Jamie skates over to bump into him, he asks, "What's got you so pumped up?"

Tyler grins. "I just have a good feeling about this game, I guess," he replies, turning to bump Jamie on the other side. He scoops up a puck and shoots it, and it sails straight past Bish's glove. "Not bad, eh?"

"Do it again when it's not our own goalie," Jamie suggests.

*

Tyler does. He takes a shot, and the puck finally,  _ finally _ hits the back of the net. His teammates crash into him, everyone yelling, and he yells back, "Finnish mafia magic, baby!"

*

"Guess it really was just bad luck after all," Jamie says after the game, clapping Tyler on the back.

"Nah, it was a curse," he replies with a grin. "I got it lifted by a magic elf."

Jamie laughs. "Yeah, right. We get it -- next time we won't bother you about it."

Tyler doesn't bother correcting him, because over Jamie's shoulder, he can see Roope grinning, and Miro with a little smile on his face. "Drinks are on me tonight," he calls out, because win or lose, he fucking love this team.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to misswonderheart, freosan, and the folks on discord for brainstorming with me and to feileacan for Stars-picking. You can yell with me about hockey on Tumblr @marmolita if you like!
> 
> Update: they won the game but still no goals for Tyler. Well, I didn't specify precisely when Tyler would score, so here's hoping it's next time. 😉


End file.
